Gift of an Imprint
by ctwinter
Summary: The initial conversation between a wolf and his imprint. It's more than a little awkward. Rated M for language, attitude and paranoia.


**I own nothing. Stephenie Meyer owns everything but this made up situation.**

**BTW, the book mentioned exists and is a really good read.**

He finally saw her clearly. For the first time in his life he was able to look at her and see what others saw; a thin girl, on the plain side, with brown eyes that were pretty for their gentle expression. He felt like everything that he saw in her before this instant was through a haze, like looking through a window smeared with a thin coating of oil. The edges of her face and her very being had always been in a soft focus before tonight. The blurred edges didn't allow him to see her fully as she is, instead of his idea of who she should be.

As Jacob Black really observed Bella Swan for the first time ever, he also watched Paul LaHote try to come to grips with imprinting on the school girl from Forks. Once his pack brother imprinted on the object of his affection, Jacob only felt friendship towards Bella. He wondered if the spirits intervened so that the wolves wouldn't kill each other in jealousy. Jake felt surprisingly detached from the scene playing out right in front of him. There was no anger, no protective instinct, and no hurt when he looked at the couple. It was like watching an inane teen movie where you know the plot; boy sees girl, girl sees boy, they feel a "connection" and they live happily ever after without thinking about things like car payments, the baby flushing a shoe in the toilet or that almost inevitable middle-age spread. He was watching two strangers playing out parts in a crappy teen movie. Jake realized that even their basic personalities could be found in any teen movie; the man whore and the frigid virgin. Oh, this could be fun to watch . . .

Jake no longer saw his supposed best friend when he looked at the clumsy girl with long hair. Long hair that didn't appear to be on speaking terms with a brush. Her slumped shoulders covered by a faded emo hoodie and her feet in the most disgust pair of Chucks he had ever seen. _For fuck's sake she was wearing a fucking hoodie_. How had he never noticed her lack of fashion before now? Jake considered that if he, being a seventeen year old guy who only wore thrift store shorts, recognized Bella as a 'style don't' then she was pretty shitty at dressing herself. But it did explain why his special alone spanky-wanky time never actually ended with a bang when thoughts of Bella entered his head. Thoughts of Bella always centered on G rated fantasies that involved longing gazes, entwined fingers, and no actual contact that anyone would consider sexual. Bella just didn't inspire him to even semi-hardness. Not a twitch, not a tremor. Jake began to considered the possibility that maybe Paul imprinting on Bella would save himself from developing PMS and crying during Hallmark commercials. All of a sudden Mr. Jacob Black felt a rush of testosterone. Entwined fingers and longing gazes are never manly - even when executed by a hot as hell werewolf

He no longer saw the the girl of quiet strength that he always wanted to be around. Jake wondered if quiet strength is really just a nicer way of saying just quiet or less than exciting? Watching her interact with Paul for the past 10 minutes as she blushed, stammered and seemed incapable of looking her imprint in the eye was like a bucket of cold water being thrown on a man with a fever. Sudden. Staggering. And ultimately providing relief from unrelenting burning after the shock eased out of his body. He was actually feeling pretty damn good for the first time in months.

After spending time with Jake, Bella was vaguely aware of imprinting but not up on the finer points. Paul patiently explained to the childlike teenager about being soul mates, not being able to be apart for any length of time and that trying to break the imprint could be fatal to both the wolf and the imprint. He talked about the fact that he would be what she wanted, a brother, friend or lover, but that neither of them could be sexual with others. The mention of sex and Bella in the same sentence made Jake snort and choke some soda out of his nose. Paul looked at Jake and frowned. As in looked like he would rip Jake's head off his shoulders if he didn't keep his fucking noises to himself. Jake began to grin because he knew that Bella was the antedote for sex. She was all about the longing open mouthed gazes that were reminiscent of someone who just wasn't all there.

While Paul was attempting to get Bella through the initial shock of imprinting by bombarding her with info, Jake was studying her reactions to what she was hearing. Honestly, she just looked kind of bored. She also looked a little bedraggled. After months of pining for the leech she looked tired, her hair had thinned, her clothes hung from her too skinny frame, and the deep dark circles under her eyes were startling against her chalky pale skin. Just yesterday Jake would have described her as having long thick hair, a pale but healthy complexion, and a small but toned body. What kind of crack had he been on? He turned he head and saw Jared watching Paul and Bella with a Cheshire cat grin on his face. Jared turned to Jake winked. It felt like Jake could hear his thoughts as if he spoke them out loud. _ "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't wait 'til Paul phases and we can see his view of this shit. Bella Swan the career virgin and Paul the man whore. You can't make this shit up . . . "_

Jake watched and heard Bella tell Paul that she was accepting the imprint so that she wouldn't be alone anymore, that it would be nice to be with someone who would never leave her and that having a protector was so romantic. It struck Jake, and Paul from the look he gave Bella, that she was only concerned about what the imprint could do for her and her crappy life without her leech. She wasn't interested in Paul or anyone else. She was the star of her own movie and dammit she was ready for her closeup Mr. DeMille. Jake realized he needed to stop watching the old movies on AMC if he could readily quote the favorite movie of gay men everywhere. Not that there was anything wrong with that . . . unless you're a wolf who hangs with other wolves and you run around with your junk waving around . . . the word 'therapy' popped into his mind . . .

Smirking, Jake watched Paul become more and more frustrated with trying to gauge Bella's reactions to his quiet attempts to get to know his imprint. The word "quiet" and Paul were rarely used in the same sentence. As in never. But he was trying to not spook the girl. She was just so twitchy and on edge. When Paul tried to touch her hand, Bella froze up and then jerked her hand like she was having a fit. When he lightly put his hand on her back, to steady the famously clumsy Bella Swan as they moved away from Quil's attempts to bench press Embry, she flinched as if someone had smacked her ass. The tightness around Paul's smile was becoming strained and more inflexible with each passing minute. Pretty soon he would start grinding his teeth. Noticably. Never a good sign for the man who fully embraced his wolf.

It had been obvious at the beginning of the conversation that Paul recognized Bella's innate shyness and quiet nature. But as a guy who lived to enjoy fighting, fucking, and food it was obvious that her clumsy girlish manner and inability to communicate in complete sentences was pissing Paul off. He didn't want a mate who was able to take on a vamp but he did want one who could answer a question without becoming a nervous greasy spot on the floor. Paul knew he needed a mate who wouldn't take his shit and who would be happy to explore the wealth of sex toys that could be ordered off the internet or purchased from that sex store down that alley in Port Angeles. He did not need, or want, a mate who required babysitting and didn't know the joy of a well placed lick or nibble. Paul always saw himself with a girl who could play Grand Theft Auto, discuss a range of subjects (Paul's physical nature was balanced by an appreciation of intellectual curiosity in others), who was unashamed of her sexuality and was willing to scream his name around wolves with supernatural hearing during crotch shattering orgasms. The ability to cook wasn't required because that's why you have carryout. Dusting was over rated. Being ready for sex 20 out of 24 hours was a must. Paul considered himself a simple man with simple needs.

Paul was used to women falling all over themselves to get a piece of his lovely ass. Well, his lovely ass and his generously proportionate cock. Using his face, body, and dick as chick bait was like fishing with dynamite for the wolf. Just a little bit of eye fucking and rubbing reeled them in. Sometimes two or three at a time. Paul was an irresistible triple threat to the female population; ruggedly handsome, built like a demigod and damaged. A beautiful man who needs saving. Oh yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause.

Unfortunately for Paul it was looking like he had imprinted on the one girl in the state who wouldn't know what to do with him and his, um, talents.

Jake was now openly listening to the escalating strain in Paul's voice with his wolfy ears and what he was hearing made his shoulders quietly shake with laughter.

"Well Bella, since you don't have much to say about school or your life with your dad, what's the last book you've read? Jake's thoughts in the pack mind show that you reading a lot. Right now I'm reading _The Sex Lives of Cannibals_. How 'bout you?" Paul like to read a good book in his rare human downtime. It was his escape from life on the rez. Even primal wolves need a mental vacation once in awhile.

"Um, I'm reading Pride and Prejudice? By Jane Austen?" Somehow her answer was a question.

"I'm surprised you haven't read that before. It was on the reading list when I was like a freshman or sophmore," Paul said.

"Oh, um, I've read it before. I generally only read Jane Austen or the Bronte sisters. Emily, Charlotte, Anne?" Bella squeaked out.

"You don't read other authors?" Bella shook her head no. If Paul's high school memory of overly romantic books written by those authors was correct, that only amounted to about a dozen books. He couldn't imagine reading the same fucking twelve books over and over again. Paul thought it sounded like intellectual masturbation. Finding something that feels good and sticking to it over and over again to get a shadow of real satisfaction without any surprises or satisfaction. Kind of like always fucking in the missionary position all the time. With your clothes on. He actually felt his wolf fucking whimper at the vanilla nature of his imprint. Oh God, a life without kink was unimaginable to either Paul or his wolf. No feathers, no flavored lube, no battery operated toys . . . would she make him clean out his goody boxes that he kept under his bed?

After slightly straightening her shoulders, Bella ask, "Do you, ummm, I mean, do you like TV? I really like cooking shows."

"I'm not much of a TV watcher. I'm usually outside working construction or patrolling during the day and if I'm home alone at night I'm reading." He didn't feel the need to share that he was rarely alone at night until he kicked out the girl or girls of the night. Instead he asked, "Do you want to work or go to college?"

"I, I, I, never really wanted to go to college and I never really expected to work. Right now I work a shift or two at Newton's each week and that's enough for gas money. When I was with Edward I expected to get married right after school." She looked at Paul hopefully when she mentioned marriage. She always acted like she was against marriage but she secretly considered marriage to be her ultimate goal. If she were married then her husband would have to take care of her. She lightly sighed in happiness at the thought.

"Aw, fuck no. Marriage? At 18? Are you fucking high? What kind of an idiot thinks that teenagers are ready for marriage? Getting knocked up is one thing but to do it voluntarily at that age?" Paul practically spit out.

Bella looked at her shoes and picked at the hem of her shirt with her left hand while playing with her hair with her right hand. Watching her bite her lip and blush, Jake began to wonder if she had always been this nervous and twitchy. Oh, shit. Is she really starting to tear up because Paul rightfully pointed out that teen marriage was crazy? Jake thought back to his conversations with Bella and he began to see Bella's habit of tearing up when frustrated, when angry, when sad. And since she was so often experiencing one of those three emotions she spent quite a bit of time with a damp face. A damp and slightly puffy face. With his new Bella enhanced vision Jake was astonished that he never recognized any of these things before now.

Very softly Bella breathed, "Paul, please don't be mean. I loved him and I wasn't knocked up."

"Sweetheart, of course you weren't knocked up. He's dead. Get it? Nothing alive there. If he could get it up it was probably rigor mortis not an actual hard-on. His sperm would have been petrified. No swimmers." Holy shit, Paul had never had a more fucked up conversation in his life. Vampire dick? Really? He so needed a real vacation. And a new imprint.

Paul put his head down and wondered what had he done in this life, any past lives, and what he was scheduled by fate to do in his next life to deserve a girl with no discernible intellect, personality, sense of humor, sex appeal or sarcasm. Paul needed a girl who could give good sarcasm and snark. Verbal sparring was his second favorite thing to do with a girl and was only second to fucking a hot girl three times before ending the date. He mentally added air quotes to "date". He never really asked girls out. He just looks at them, rubs up against them and they follow. It's cheaper that way and without emotional baggage. Sometimes a fuck is just a fuck.

He knows he's an ass but at least he's a hot and funny ass who likes a good time. A bitch he would know how to handle. The small girl in front of him who obviously needed the kid glove treatment was so outside of his experience that for the first time in his life he couldn't figure out what to do next with a female. She was apparently immune to charm and as sexless as a stick of sugarfree gum. The idea of a lifetime spent gazing into the gentle eyes of his soul mate was beginning to look like a his own personal hell. Prison with a teary guard who would want to know what he's feeling. Paul LaHote did not share his feelings. Fuck, he wasn't really sure that he had any feelings. Instincts? Yes. Feelings? Not so sure about that. A little piece of Paul died while he contemplated that future. OK, it didn't die but it sure did shrivel. Like his dick when he thought of getting it anywhere near Bella Swan.

After trying to give Paul and his imprint a chance to begin the process of getting to know each other, and not being able to keep from hearing how things were going between the sex-on-a-stick Paul and the frozen-like-an-igloo Bella, the rest of the wolves were starting to tune back into to the conversation. Sam was whispering a blow by blow account to Emily who was hiding behind her hands to keep her smile undercover. Brady, Collin, and Seth were just staring with stunned expressions as they witnessed the total awkwardness of Bella as an imprint. The pups had been entertained through the pack mind with Paul's conquests and the free sex-ed he provided the baby wolves. They knew more sex positions from the Kama Sutra than any other 14-16 year old boys in the Pacific Northwest.

Leah began to have a fit of snorting giggles that wouldn't stop. She kept thinking that karma was a fucking bitch for putting the most promiscuous man within 500 miles of Seattle with a girl who probably wore granny panties. Made of cotton. All the time and not just on those monthly 'special' days. Leah started to laugh harder and may have peed herself just a little. Embry knew his girlfriend's twisted take on things and grinned at her before grabbing her hand and running with her into the woods. Leah loved fucking Embry in the woods at night and making him howl.

Putting his head down and rubbing his eyes like he had a headache, Paul came to a sudden decision. No angst. No doubting. Straightening up and turning at wolf speed he caught Billy Black's eye and walked towards the Tribal chief and Old Quil.

"Ah, shit. I can't do this Billy. I'd rather watch my nuts shrink to the size of raisins and my dick stop working than face a lifetime of Bella 'I like dead people' Swan."

Turning to Bella, Paul ground out, "I'm leaving now and don't intend to see you again."

"But we're meant for each other. I complete you . . ." Bella's voice dropped off into a whisper.

"Sweetheart, the only thing that you could complete for me is my descent into insanity. I suggest you stay away from us wolves and go find a gay leech or a regular guy who hasn't ever fucked before."

Turning back to Billy and Old Quil Paul crossed his arms and stated in a matter of fact voice, "You two better find a way to break this fucking joke of an imprint within a week or I will burn both of your houses down."

Billy turned to Old Quil and sighed, "As the shaman you need to find a way. Magic, bribery, criminal acts. I. Don't. Fucking. Care. But find a way to break this or we're going to be living in tepees because we both know Paul will burn our houses down and make the rest of our lives fucking miserable."

Shuttering, Old Quil looked at the wolf and said, "I know of a ceremony that will work so long as you go on a spirit quest for a week, don't have sex for two weeks and bathe in blessed water for a month."

"Set it up old man. I'd bath in tar for a year and go without sex for a month to avoid the 'gift' of an imprint."


End file.
